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Inevitable Death

by TheOnly

Chapter 1: Musings of Death


To whom it may concern:

What is the best way to kill somepony? Is it by force? No. Force requires active interaction with the victim, and leaves behind a clear trail. Force is the easiest way to kill, no doubt, but is far from the best. Is it by poison? No, poison requires the killer to be near the victim. It requires meditation, a plan, execution of actions. It requires the hope that they will take the poison. It leaves behind bread crumbs that lead back to you. Is it by indirect involvement? Hiring somepony to do it for you? No, you must interact with the killer, and they know who you are. It seems as though everything that can cause death leads back to you. I've pondered this problem for many years, and I finally figured it out. The best way to kill somepony is through thought, ideas. Intangible ideas that die with the pony, unable to be traced or found. An idea, the most lethal weapon. When an idea grasps the mind, it takes over. It can't be ousted through any known methods. But what idea is the most lethal? Is it thoughts of suicide? Thoughts of depression? Thoughts of loneliness? No, all these things can be consoled. The outside world can see these symptoms and picks up on them, and then treats them.

I spent months pondering the question, almost a full year. Could it be ideas of death itself? No, the mind senses the danger and removes the thought. I kept telling myself that there has to be a way, and there was. One night I figured it out. I found the one idea that could drive a pony to death. The one idea that the outside world wouldn't pick up on.

You see, as a unicorn my magic was specialized for a specific field. My field was thoughts. Though years of practice, I learned to silently transmit thoughts from my own mind to another. At first it was just for fun, to telepathically communicate with others, but then I learned something. Something darker.

Once an idea had been sent from my mind, it took form in the victims mind. It starts as only a small speck within the dark recesses of the mind, but slowly begins to grow. The mind takes hold of the idea, calls it its own. Soon the idea consumes the mind, my magic pushing it to the forefront. I learned that a malevolent idea could drive a weak pony insane, I learned the power I possessed. And on the night that I figured out the most lethal idea, I realized that I held life in my hooves.

Passing by anypony, I could transmit the idea from my mind to theirs. Soon the idea takes form, and the genius behind it starts to work. The mind doesn't sense danger, this single idea doesn't alert the mind. It takes form in the victim's mind, becoming a subconscious focal point. Soon, the idea takes over, but the mind still doesn't sense danger. The idea doesn't incite caution, that's the genius. I spent months figuring it out, and it was worth it.

By the end of a week or two, the victim was usually dead. Sometimes it took longer than a few weeks, sometimes it took a month or two, but I was patient. I didn't mind a little bit of the waiting game, patience was one of my skills. The first death was coincidence. The second death was skepticism. The third death was belief. And the fourth death was assurance. Repeated results, this idea was assured to kill. After the first four deaths, I was sure that this idea was truly the most lethal one.

The beauty about ideas was that I didn't have to be present. I only needed to pass by the victim for a moment, to plant the idea, and then I just had to wait a while. I never had to interact with them ever again, the idea worked on its own. A few weeks later I'd be reading the paper and see their name, they were dead. The life of anypony I passed by was in my hooves because of this one, simple idea.

At first I only used the power I possessed when it was absolutely necessary, and that was almost never. A death that takes a week or two is never necessary in an urgent situation. Then I thought of all the good that could come of it. I began to seek out the criminals, the evil that lay in society. I filled them with the idea. They believed they were safe, but that's the purpose of the idea. Soon enough, they were dead, and one by one the evil that had once been present was ousted. I felt powerful, like life and death rested on my shoulders. I was a deity with this idea.

Months past, and I became fond of my power, using it for the greater good. Soon, I felt that I had too much power, that my use of the idea, the lethal idea, was unfair.

Within the next week, I realized something. I was harboring in my own mind the lethal idea. The idea had taken over my own mind and I hadn't even noticed it. Ideas can't be ousted from the mind, once they attach themselves they are there to stay. Even when I tried to push the idea away, it hid in the back of my mind, only to reappear later. I realized that my only option was to transfer the idea totally out of my mind and into somepony else's.

I was able to use my magic to transfer to get the idea out of my head. I remembered what I had figured out months before: once an idea is implanted into the mind, it never leaves. I couldn't let the idea take over my brain, I wouldn't become the victim of my own poison. Every so often, I'd be forced to transfer the idea out of my own mind and into somepony else to reduce its presence in my mind. To send it back to the dark recesses. But the amount of evil I could find was running out.

Soon, I realized that my only option was the innocent. The fear of death, the fear of allowing the idea to consume me, led to kill an innocent pony with the idea. I couldn't live on, I couldn't use the idea to take advantage of life for my own benefit. The death of that pony haunted me, and soon enough the idea was stirring in my mind. I knew that I couldn't injure another innocent pony, I only had one option. That's why I'm here now, writing this letter in hopes that somepony see it and heed the message, to never allow the idea to overtake another mind. The idea that I had come up with in the first place had led to my own downfall. These are my final words, as I stand here about to take my own life. I cannot live on with the death of an innocent stallion on my hooves

I speak these words not to get the idea stuck in your mind, but so that you may recognize the idea and believe the opposite. This lethal idea that had caused my own demise, through itself. With the last strokes of my quill, I leave behind the idea.

"It won't happen to me."

This very idea, the one that I had been using for so long, had taken form in my own mind. I believed that the idea wouldn't take over me, but that very thought was the idea taking over me.

The idea takes form in your brain, and when faced with risks, you assume that you are invincible, that the repercussions could never happen to you, but then they do. This is what kills my victims, and now it is what kills me.

Farewell~










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A/N: Usually I don't write these kinds of stories, but recently my close friend was involved in a car accident due to "the idea" and just barely escaped death. Hence why I wrote this story.

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